


A life for a life

by katiejo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Please Don't Hate Me, Self-Harm, Suicide, Triggers, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 02:59:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiejo/pseuds/katiejo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Louis saves a suicidal Harry on the rooftop, he never imagines it will end up like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A life for a life

**Author's Note:**

> I've already posted this on quotev and I just thought I would post it here, too. It's really not my best writing so I'm sorry.

The breeze is a harsh one; one that would have been painfully unbearable to anyone else. But I relish in it, finding relief in its sharp, bittersweet quality.

I dance along the edge of the rooftop in nothing but a plain black tank top and skinny jeans rolled at the bottom. When a gust of wind slaps me across the face, a smile appears on my lips. This pain is a bearable kind of pain, almost like the kind that comes from the scars that line my wrist.

I gaze down at the streets below. People scurry about everywhere, going about their normal daily life, completely oblivious to the person standing high above them.

It would be so easy..

I glance at my feet, my toes seem to inch towards the ledge. All it takes is one little step. It's so simple and easy I feel like it'd almost be cheating. One step and all the pain of this world would be gone.

But no. That's not what I came here for. I'm not ready to end my life.. yet.

I tear my eyes away from the the dangerous height and slink into my corner of the roof. It's so quiet and peaceful; that's why I love it so much. This is my hideaway where I come when I desperately need to think or escape for awhile.

My back is pressed against the cold hard bricks that somewhat block the wind. I close my eyes and lean back into them. A flicker of a smile crosses my lips. This is my paradise.

I stay in this position for a long time. The cold slowly sucks the feeling out of my skin until I'm completely numb. I don't mind.

I'm fading in and out of consciousness when a shuffling noise catches my attention.

My eye snap open and I immediately tense to run.

There's a figure clad in all black off to my right. He doesn't seem to notice me tucked away in my little corner. The person is standing near the edge, not far from where I considered jumping. A hood protects the person's face from both the cold and my eyes. 

I remain motionless, praying that the figure will leave. It's tall and frankly, kinda scares me.

But then, he places one foot hesitantly on the ledge. 

I can't sit here and watch someone take their own life. "Don't do it!" I yell in a voice I didn't think I had.

Startled, he whips his head around to face me. My eyes lock with green eyes that are somehow bright yet emotionless. His eyes widen in fear. His jaw drops slightly but no words come out.

I stand up, ignoring the pain of my protesting legs, and take a step towards him. He watches me carefully and I notice that, though quite tall, he's younger than me. He's just a kid.

"Please step down," I say, unable to hide the urgency in those words.

"Why should I?" He snaps. He tries to look angry, but now that I've seen how innocent and broken he looks, I can't be intimidated. 

"Because, you'd be making a mistake," I say softly, risking another step towards him. He's still halfway across the rooftop, yet I can see the panic growing in his eyes from all the way over here.

"No, I'd be doing the world a favor." The boy turns away from me and glares down at the street. Then in a sudden movement, he steps up with his other foot.

"No!" I shout. I can see the determination in his stance; he's about to jump. Without thinking, I sprint over to where he is and throw my arms around him. I pull backwards with all my strength just as he loses his balance.

My hearts beat feels as though it's slowing down even though I know it's speeding up. Everything seems sluggish like we're stuck in slow motion.

The boy crashes back into my chest, caught off guard. The two of us tumble backwards and collide into the hard rooftop. I land on my back and the air rushes from my lungs. I gasp for breath, finding it almost impossible. I dully realize that the boy is still wrapped in my arms.

He rolls away from me. I don't stop him.

When I can finally breathe again, I turn over to him, to find him glaring at me with pure hatred.

"Why did you do that?" He growls. His eyes blaze fiercely. 

"I already told you. It would've been a mistake."

"No, it wouldn't have." The boy then proceeds to do what is possibly the most childlike thing I've ever seen: he sticks out his bottom lip and pouts. 

We lay across from each other, neither of us daring to break eye contact or to speak.

Finally, when I can't take the silence any longer, I ask, "and why do you say that?"

He looks slightly taken aback. It takes him a moment to get any words out. His wall of anger breaks and he sounds so little and broken. "I'm worthless here."

My heart snaps in two. I don't know how many times I've said those words, but there's just something about him saying it that hurts deep inside. "I doubt that," I whisper.

I look him over, long and hard. Soft, brown curls crown his head. His face is chiseled, his skin pale.

And then my eyes fall upon his wrist. I suck in a deep breath of the familiar, puckered skin. The boy quickly tries to cover it with his sleeve, but its too late. I've already recognized the cuts. I gently reach out and pull back his sleeve. I can feel his eyes staring intently at me yet he doesn't stop me. I run my fingers slightly over the scars and a whimper leaves his lips.

"It's okay.." I say, holding out my own arm. He stares, taking in my scars. Tears fill his eyes; he fights so hard against them. "It's okay," I repeat.

He stops fighting the tears. They spill down his cheek while a rough sob shakes his body. I sit up and pull him into my lap.

Something warm rolls down my own cheek and I realize that in crying, too.

The boy curls up and buries his face into my chest. Heart-wrenching sobs claw their way up his throat. I rest the side of my face on top of his curls. Neither of us seems to care that we're crying in the arms of a stranger. 

When the boy's cries quiet down, he looks up at me and sniffles I smile at him through my tears. 

"Sorry," he says blushing and wiping away the remaining tears.

"No need to be sorry. I'm Louis, by the way," I respond.

He pulls back just enough to look me squarely in the face. "Harry." 

Then Harry smiles at me for the first time. The despair is still apparent in his eyes, but now a glint of happiness can be seen there, too. Adorable dimples appear in his cheeks, and I can't help but feel my grin widen. 

I guess we both really needed to let that out.

I'm about to ask him what brought him to this rooftop when I feel a shiver spread across his body.

"You cold?" I ask.

He nods violently. 

"Let's go inside then," I suggest. Harry quickly hops to his feet and reaches down to help me up. I can't help but notice how his hand completely engulfs mine.

We walk side by side back into the building, where we collapse in what appears to be a forgotten hallway.

Harry leans against the wall across from me, his eyes never leaving my face.

I begin to feel very self-conscious. I pick at the hem of my tank top.

"What were you doing on the roof?" Harry asks after a long silence. 

"Thinking," I reply without looking up.

"About what?"

I take a deep breath. "The consequences.." 

I peek up at him. He looks confused so I go on.

"Of if I were to leave."

Harry says nothing, but realization crosses his features.

"And.. Well I've been clean for three weeks now. It's been tough. I had to get out of the house; it's almost like my razor was calling to me, ya know?" I spill without really meaning to.

He nods slowly "I understand."

I stare at my shoes, he stares at his. Another silence hangs over us. This time I'm the one to break it. 

"What led you to wanting to kill yourself?" 

Harry cringes. "Everything.." I wait for him to go on. "My dad left, but I saw that coming. My mom hates me, too. She said I was better off dead.."

And so Harry goes on down his horrifying list of factors. I nod, gasp, and when he ends up crying, I coax him into another hug.

I can't believe everything happening to him, and he's only 18. He's so young, yet he's experienced more pain than some men experience in their entire lifetime.

Our conversation expands to life in general. I learn about his sister and his favorite foods. I in turn, share about my four sisters, uni (which I dropped out of), and my favorite movies. We talk about the most stupid, irrelevant things for hours, never growing tired of each others laugh.

I almost forgot what laughter felt like. Happiness bubbles inside me.

I always thought that if I were to put everything out there, my whole life, I would feel empty inside, but its the opposite. There's a warmth growing in my chest and just being able to talk to someone makes breathing less of a burden.

It soon fades to dark and our conversation slows down.

I can see it in Harry's eyes that he doesn't want to be the one to say goodbye. 

"Well.. I should get going.." I sigh. 

Disappointment fills his face. The corners of his lips turn down slightly. "Okay.. I guess you're right."

I look down at my hands. I really don't want to go. Then I pull my phone out and slide it to him. "Put your number in," I instruct. 

Harry does as he's told without hesitation. When he hands it back, I send a quick 'hi' to him so he can save my number.

"Harry, if you ever think about committing again, please call me," I say quietly.

He stares at me for a long moment as though deciding just how much he trusts me. Finally he nods and I let out the breath I was holding. "Okay, Lou."

He grins at me and relief floods through me. I might be able to keep this boy alive.

We walk out of the building, side by side, beaming with the knowledge that we both finally have a friend. 

We go our separate ways after that. I turn and watch as Harry's tall frame fades into the darkness. 

That's the last I see of Harry Styles for awhile. We text a little after that, but there isn't much to be said. I assume that all he needed was to rant and let it all out and that maybe he's fine now. I know I'm doing much better, knowing that there's someone out there that cares about me. 

But just because I've been feeling better, doesn't mean Harry has been. I should have known that.

I'm in the middle of brushing my teeth when my phone rings. Seeing Harry's name flash across the screen, I quickly spit and answer. "Hello?" 

"Louis.." His voice is so faint; my stomach drops to the floor.

"Harry, what's wrong?" I ask urgently.

He takes too long to respond. "Louis, I- I fucked up."

I barely notice the shaking in my hands. My heart is in my throat, yet all I can concentrate on is his voice.

"I'm on my way right now. What's your address?" I ask, rushing straight to my car, not even bothering to grab shoes.

Harry weakly recites his address and I stomp on the gas pedal. "I'll be there in a minute; just stay on the phone, okay?" I'm desperate and taking corners way too fast. A few cars honk at me but it doesn't register. I need to get to Harry now.

Panic and hysteria rise inside me.

"Harry, are you still with me?" I call out when the other line becomes too quiet.

"Yeah.. The door's unlocked.. And Lou?"

I grip the steering wheel impossibly tighter. "Yes?" I choke out.

"Please hurry.." He whispers.

I press down harder on the pedal. Street signs blur past the windows but I know where I'm going. If only I could get there faster.

After far too long of a time, I slam on my brakes in front of Harry's flat.

My legs move without me instructing them to, they just know to go. Before I know it, I'm flying up the steps and through his front door.

"Harry?" I call, slightly out of breath.

I'm greeted with silence. My heart completely skips a beat and my knees almost give out. 

"Harry, please, where are you?" I shout.

The fear within me is getting the best of me. My head is spinning and I can barely breathe.

I slip down a random hallway, yelling his name over and over.

Then I hear it. A soft whimpering comes from somewhere to the left. I dart around a corner where I find a closed door waiting for me. The sliver of light beneath it tells me this is exactly where I want to be. I shove the door open.

A small shriek escapes my lips.

Harry lies on the bathroom floor, the skin on both his arms shredded. Fragments of what used to be a mirror litter the room and blood paints the floor like a giant canvas. His face is such a deathly shade of white that tears spring to my eyes.

"Oh god no.." I whisper. I bring a shaking hand to my lips to cover my gasp.

At the sound of my voice, Harry's eyes flutter open, lock on me, and close again. They're dull and lifeless.

I recover from my initial shock and carefully make my way over to him. I dance around the pieces of glass, regretting the decision to not wear shoes.

When I reach him, I'm not really sure what to do. I gaze down at his broken body. How could I have not seen this coming?

I swallow the lump in my throat and sit down beside Harry. I take his head in my lap and stroke his curls absentmindedly while dialing an ambulance.

Harry gazes up at me while I frantically explain the situation to the operator. I'm not at all assured when the woman on the other line says that they'll "be here soon."

I hang up and toss my phone across the room in frustration. We don't need the ambulance soon; we need it now.

"The ambulance will be here soon," I tell Harry, though.

His eyes widen in terror. "You'll be okay," I say comfortingly.

He nods and allows his eyes to drift back to a close. He can't keep his eyes open. I feel my panic increase.

"Harry.. Why?" I whisper.

"I'm sorry.." He whispers, equally soft. "I wanted to be strong like you. I threw my razors out a week ago but I.. I couldn't do it.. I'm sorry."

My heart snaps in two and I break down. The tears stream uncontrollably down my face. I want to tell him that I'm the one that's sorry, but no words can escape. Instead, I pull his head into my chest and hold him tight. I cling to him; I cling to what little life is left within him.

I can feel his warmth slowly fading. I'm sobbing now. "Harry please don't go. I need you. You're all I have."

There's no response. Sheer terror rises inside of me. 

Help comes quickly after that, but not fast enough. Harry's like death in my arms.

They tell me it's serious.

They tell me he should make it, though.

They tell me to calm down, he'll be fine.

After a while I stop listening to the thing they tell me. It all sounds like hollow lies to me.

Then they tell me I'm allowed to see Harry.

I walk into his hospital room in a trance. Harry lies in the middle of the bed. His eyes are closed; his chest rises and falls lightly. If I didn't still have the horrible image of him covered in blood in my head, I could almost pretend he was just taking a nap.

I pull up a chair and sit next to the bed, refusing to leave his side for anything except occasional bathroom brakes. No one else shows up to visit him, his parents included.

As soon as Harry stirs even the tiniest bit, my heart beat spikes. I grab ahold of his hand and wait for eyes to fully open.

"Louis?" He asks, voice rough, as he struggles to focus on me.

"The one and only," I say with a meek smile.

The corners of his lips turn up slightly at that. There's a small.. fluttering.. in my chest. I decide to ignore it.

"How are you feeling?" I ask. 

Harry frowns and glances down at his wrists. "Bad."

I reach out, without thinking, and trace the new cuts that line his otherwise perfect skin. He doesn't so much as flinch away from my touch. Instead, he watches my hand intently.

"Please don't ever scare me like that again.. You- you're all I have left," I say, choking up at the end.

"I.. I'm sorry. I'll try not to." 

"No, Harry. I don't want you to try. I want you to fight. You'll get through this; I'll help you get through this. Just promise you'll never leave me alone here." I take a deep breath, my courage quickly deserting me after my little motivational speech.

"Okay, Lou. I promise."

Harry slips his hand into mine and squeezes it once, reassuring me. That stupid fluttering in my chest occurs again.

"Thank you." 

And then, like nothing happened, Harry asks, "So how was your day?"

I chuckle. "Bloody terrible, thanks to you."

He looks genuinely guilty for a moment. I quickly take it back.. "But now that you're awake and well, I couldn't be better." 

We exchange smiles yet again and dive into a random conversation about the latest football match. It's so ordinary I almost forget that we're in a hospital because Harry came incredibly close to killing himself. Almost.

Our topics slowly drift to a billion other subjects; I don't mind. I could listen to Harry talk all day. There's just something about his voice..

I catch myself staring at his face many times throughout, too. I don't even realize I'm doing it. His lips are so plump, my eyes seem to slip away to them subconsciously.

What am I doing? I immediately shake myself out of it. I'm straight. I shouldn't be gazing at another guy's lips. That's weird. 

But his lips look so kissable right now..

An sudden image of Harry's lips crashing into mine leaves me breathless. I hope he doesn't notice.

That image.. It seemed so right. I know it's no where near right, but our lips just seemed right for each other in it. I nervously start fiddling with my thumbs. If Harry ever knew what I was thinking, he'd be disgusted. Heck, I'm disgusted!

Why would I even think about kissing him? 

I focus on paying attention to our conversation after that. 

All to soon, a nurse cuts us off, telling me his visiting hours are over and that I must leave. I feel heartbroken and I can see that Harry feels the same. I wanted to stay an talk all night.

First thing next morning, I go straight back to the hospital. He's not even awake yet but I could care less. Then when he does awaken, we repeat the day before.

This goes on for a week until they deem Harry healthy enough to leave the hospital. The doctors are extremely concerned though about him being at his house alone, so I agree to stay with him awhile. He doesn't seem to mind too much. We've both learned to take comfort in each other's company.

"Louis, what do you think about this shirt?" Harry's voice carries down the hallway after a couple weeks of me staying with him.

"Bring it out here, I can't see it!" I yell from my comfortable position on the couch.

"Lazy sack of potatoes," he grumbles, appearing with a black, button-up shirt on.

He looks.. Fantastic.

The dark color brings out the deep shades in his curls and highlights his face. And the shirt's form-fitting, showing off his sculpted chest and abs.

Oh god, I'm staring again. I quickly divert my eyes to the commercial playing on the tv.

"Well?" Harry asks impatiently.

I forgot to answer. Shit. How do I tell him how fit he looks without sounding creepy? 

"It looks nice," is what I come up with. As soon as the words leave my mouth, I'm mentally smacking myself. It looks so much better than just "nice."

Harry looks almost disappointed with my answer. "Thanks."

I watch him turn and walk back down the hall, my heart aching as he goes. I want to tell him how beautiful he looks in it, but for obvious reasons I can't.

In all honesty, I can't keep my eyes off Harry lately. His face, his hair, his body, it's all just so perfect. His smile literally takes my breath away. He is the definition of beauty. 

I'm not sure when I started looking at Harry in this way.

I'm not sure when I started being attracted to him.

I'm not sure when I started to fall for him.

My mind is a muddled mess of confusion when I'm with him and its so frustrating. I want to tell him how I feel- I want to scream it- but fear holds me back. I know he doesn't feel the same. He'd be so appalled by me if he knew.

He'd hate me, just like how I hate myself for this. I can't loose the one person who cares about me so I bottle up every single one of these feelings until I'm ready to burst.

On and on this goes until I'm toying with insanity. I'm about to reach my breaking point.

I glance over at the boy who now holds my heart. He senses my wandering eyes and turns to face me. I can't seem to look away from his strong gaze.

"Lou, you're missing the show," he chuckles.

My cheeks flood with color. "Oops," I breathe. His smile sends my stomach into a tailspin.

Then suddenly the space between us on the couch seems so small. It'd be such an easy distance to close. 

My heartbeat speeds up at this realization and neither of us breaks eye contact.

This is my chance. I'm going to hate myself for it, but this is my chance.

"I'm sorry, Harry," I whisper.

Before he can even respond or question, I lean over. I'm acting on peer adrenaline now.

Harry stiffens beneath me, caught completely by surprise. Our lips brush against each other and I feel a spark. I pray to god that he feels it, too.

I hesitantly press my lips into his. He remains motionless, yet I carry on. I kiss Harry with all the emotions I've been holding back. His lips begin to move with mine and I swear I'm about to burst with happiness. All I ever wanted was to know what his kiss tasted like, and now I know. 

My bubble of ecstasy is popped as soon as Harry pulls away.

His eyes are wide with confusion and fear. He quickly puts space between us.

I shouldn't have done that. I just fucked up big time.

I'm breathless, dizzy, and though Harry's waiting for an explanation, no words will come. All I can think about is what a big mistake that was.

"I.. I um.. Louis?" Harry asks frantically. "I had no clue.. That you- I- when-"

His stuttering takes over and he gives up trying to speak.

"Harry I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that. Please please please don't hate me," I beg.

I pull my knees up to my chest and curl into a sort of ball under his hard stare.

"I didn't know you were.."

"I didn't know either," I reply with a small shrug.

"But you- you like me?" 

Fear is gnawing at my insides. What have I done?!

"Yes."

Harry shakes his head slowly. Tears threaten to overspill. I just ruined everything.

"Lou, I have to think about this," he says. Without another peek at me, he slips away to his room, and I'm left sobbing on the couch.

I ruin everything.

I don't see Harry the rest of the day. My heart feels like its been ripped out of my chest.

Of course it only gets worse when I find the letter sitting on the counter.

It's folded neatly and I instantly recognize the handwriting on it. My breathing hitches in my throat. With shaking hands I open it and begin to read.

 

" Dear Louis,

You are an amazing friend to me. If it wasn't for you I wouldn't be alive today, and that's a fact. You saved me. I really love you; you're like a brother to me.

But that's all you are to me. I really don't know how to put this, but I don't think I could ever think of you in that way. Words can't explain how sorry I am. I thought long and hard about this and trust me, it wasn't an easy decision.

You got me back on my feet in my biggest time of need; I will always be grateful for that. You fixed me. 

This just might be the hardest thing I've ever done. Please don't be angry with me for this. 

I've gone to stay with an old friend that I recently reconnected with for the rest of the week. I thought that would be best so that you could have time to figure out where you want to go from here. I truly hope we can remain friends after this, but I will understand if you don't want to.

Love,   
Harry"

 

My blood goes cold. I reread the letter over and over, the words not sinking in. I can't believe it..

I jump to my feet and the letter falls to the ground. I race to Harry's room. Sure enough, half his closet and a suitcase are gone. My knees give out and I collapse on his floor in a sobbing heap. 

The only person who cared about me at all is gone. I lost him the moment our lips met. The pain swirling around me seems never ending. I pray for sleep to come and free me from this torture but of course it doesn't come.

Motivation deserts me, leaving me on his floor for hours without the will to move. 

Harry hates me. Harry hates me. Harry hates me. 

That's all I can think. The one who I would have given my heart to, is disgusted by me. He claims he wants to stay friends, but we both know that that's impossible. I don't think I could ever look at him again without my heart being torn apart. He would be a constant reminder of how alone and unloved I am. 

He didn't even say it to my face. He just left me with a damn note to dry my tears with.

I break and crumble into smaller pieces with every second that goes by. Loneliness and despair fill me to my core.

Now it's official. No one wants me here.

With this realization, a new round of tears hits. 

No one cares. No one loves me. I'm worthless and unwanted and a freak and a faggot.. I was an idiot for thinking Harry could love me back.

I slowly push myself up and force myself to stand. My legs wobble beneath me.

Numbness creeps into my brain, blocking each emotion one at a time. I give in to it. There's nothing left for me me anyways. Fixing Harry was my way of fixing myself, but he doesn't need me anymore. 

I make my way over to the counter tare a piece of paper from the notebook sitting there. I pick up my pen and begin to write a note back to Harry. Only this note's a little different.

 

"Dear Harry,

Thank you for being there for me. You gave me the best couple months of my life. You gave me a reason to stick around.

Now please don't feel too guilty; you had no clue how I was going to react to this. You had no clue how broken I was from the start because I didn't show you. I wanted to focus on you to help you get better. An now that you're better, you don't need me.

The truth is, Harry, that I can't just be friends. I'm sorry. I can't see you every day and know that I lost you, either. So this seems to be the only solution. I think it will make both our lives easier.

I know this is extremely hypocritical of me and I'm hoping you will forgive me. I feel that that's okay, though, considering you broke your promise. You promised that you'd never leave me alone here and that's exactly what you did.

I'm sorry I couldn't be stronger.

I'm sorry I was such a bother.

I'm sorry for existing.

Now it's my time to go, I guess. I know you won't be thinking about me too much, but know that I will really miss you. 

Love,   
Louis"

 

My hands are shaking terribly by the end of the note. I fold it up as nice as possible and place it exactly where I found Harry's.

I take one last look around the flat. I'm going to miss this, too. It had become my home.

I sigh and turn to go.

I know exactly where I'm going. My feet carry me to a tall building a couple blocks away. Then they take one step at a time until I reach an all too familiar rooftop.

My heart speeds up when I spot the ledge where I first saw Harry. I smile in remembrance at that meeting. 

And now as I step up onto the very same ledge, we've come full circle. I almost expect someone to come running from my corner, telling me not to do it.

No one stops me, though. A life for a life; that's the going price I guess.

A single tear escapes and trickles down my cheek. 

I stare down at the cars passing by and people going on their way. None of them will care that I'm gone. 

I briefly wonder if it'll hurt, but I push that thought away. 

If I can't be strong in any other way, I must be brave in my last minute.

I gaze up at the clouded sky, hoping for one last ray of sunlight that doesn't come.

Finally, I take a deep breath and just let everything go.


End file.
